Wannabe Police Officer
by Aussielover
Summary: Another Jennings Thornton, crime fighter, crossing over the boundaries. He gets so infatuated with police officers that he wants to become one. After failing to be accepted at the academy, he hovers over a scanner and gawks at crime scenes. Finally, he goes over the top and tries to take the place of one... one in particular…
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

A white and black Chevrolet Caprice sat idle while the police scanner barked out another call. The familiar female voice of the dispatcher said, "One Adam-16, 211 in progress at 1400 Normandale and Second Street, handle Code 3." The driver put the car in gear and headed toward the address listed as fast as possible without getting unwanted attention. As he approached the scene, he slowed to a crawl and pulled the Chevy to the curb across the street from the gas station where he could see Adam-16 parked with both doors flung open. The two officers had already apprehended the suspect and were walking the man toward their unit. Just then a second squad car drove up and two officers got out. The observer recognized the two latest arrivals as his favorite Los Angeles Police Officers to watch. After loading the suspect, the four officers had a bit of a powwow, and then disbanded and departed from the scene.

Later that day after a lull in the calls, Jim and Pete took seven at one of their favorite establishments, Joe's Drive-In. The two climbed out of their squad car and meandered over to one of the outside red picnic tables with a large umbrella placed through the center of the table. It was early evening and both officers were starving. One of the regular servers showed up to take their order. "What can I get for you officers tonight?"

Pete glanced up from the small one-sided menu, "I'd like a cheeseburger and fries and a coffee."

Jim added, "Make that two, except make mine a double cheeseburger, Kevin. Thanks." Smiling as he ordered.

"Two cheeseburger meals coming right up." Kevin hustled over to the window to put in the order.

"Hey Pete, I'm buying. I still owe you for picking up the tab last week."

"Now you tell me, Jim. I would have ordered more."

"I was thinking of you, partner. You know how you get when you eat too much. We still have four more hours to go in our shift."

"That's OK, Jim. I'll let you do any foot pursuits if it's necessary."

"Pete, how did Jennings Thornton's court case go with the charge of carrying a concealed weapon?"

"He was charged with a misdemeanor since he had no priors. Knowing him, he'll probably get little to no jail time and he'll be back on the street trying to save the day again soon."

"I don't get it. Why would someone with any business savvy desire to be a wannabe police officer?"

"Come on, Jim. The guy just wants to boost his own ego."

"Maybe, he has a hero complex."

"Too bad he doesn't realize that police aren't seen as heroes. Sadly, we're called a lot of other things."

The food was promptly delivered to the table and both officers began to chow down.

"Excuse me, officers, did you need anything else tonight?"

With his mouth full, Pete gave a quick head nod and then Jim spoke up. "No, we're good."

Kevin ripped off the top sheet from his pad. "Here is your bill."

Jim took out his wallet and pulled out the few bucks needed and handed it over to the server. "Keep the change."

"Thank you, Officer Reed."

The officer's discussion turned to a different subject. Jim asked, "So, do you want to come over for dinner tomorrow night for a little celebration?"

"What's the celebration?"

"I'm throwing a party for my friend, Al Porter, for making it as a Reserve Officer. He gets bonus points for surviving Ed Wells as a first partner."

"Did you include Ed in the gathering?" A big smirk crossed Pete's face.

"No, I thought Al would be more comfortable if it was just us." Jim took his last bite of burger then swigged his coffee to wash it all down.

"Sure, I can make it. Do you want me to bring anything?"

"Could you bring some beer?"

"Consider it done." Pete finished up his coffee. "Let's get rolling." Both men gathered up their trash and carried it over to the garbage bin. Pete took one misstep, but quickly corrected himself.

As Jim closed his car door, the radio burst to life. "Any units in the vicinity of 1300 block of North Broadway and Lincoln Park Avenue for a possible 459."

"That's just a couple blocks away from here." Pete stated as he put the key in the ignition.

Jim grabbed the mike, "This is 1-Adam 12, we'll handle the 459 at North Broadway and Lincoln Park." The dispatcher responded, "1-Adam 12, handle Code 3." A few moments later the dispatcher advised, "Be aware no other units are able to assist at this time."

Pete flipped off the lights and siren as they neared the warehouse location, so as not to alert any burglar of their presence. Jim radioed in that they were Code 6 at 1300 North Broadway. It was dusk and the limited light would not help the officers survey the area without risk. The building was at least two stories high with few windows. Crates of all sizes lined one side of the property, and multiple loading docks for semi-trucks, ran along the other side. The two got out of the squad and donned their hats and un-holstered their guns. "Jim, you take the right side and look for any point of entry. I'll take the left."

"You got it."

Pete had just made his way around the side of the building when his vision blurred for a moment and caused him to trip. He caught himself, and then shook his head, trying to clear it. Jim, on the opposite side of the warehouse, discovered a door standing ajar between two large docks. It looked like someone had jimmied the door and left pry marks. He pulled out his flashlight and cautiously stepped inside to explore. With the two officers now separated, it wasn't surprising that Jim didn't hear what happened next. Pete continued to wander through tall stacks of wooded crates on the perimeter of the property. His steps turned to staggers and then he found himself leaning against one crate, and then another, before an overwhelming weakness struck. He finally collapsed to the ground and a couple of the crates tumbled down on top of him. His gun flew out of his hand and slid across the pavement. As Malloy lost his battle with consciousness, someone else appeared on the scene.

A couple hours later, Pete Malloy stirred. As he came back into the conscious world he struggled with a foggy mind. He felt like a bear waking from a deep sleep or winter hibernation. He cracked open his eyes to pure darkness. The air was muggy and stale and his clothes damp with sweat. He tried to move, then felt the restraint of handcuffs at his wrists. He twisted his body around then pushed himself up into a sitting position. This movement created a rattling sound that soon led to a new discovery. Unable to see what made the noise, he reached down his leg and felt a thick metal shackle attached at his left ankle. He mumbled out loud to himself, "What the heck?"

His hands continued to run over the three-inch wide iron band then onto the connected chain. With both hands he gripped the chain and gave a strong tug to quickly learn he was anchored to something. The word "trapped" became all too real at that very moment.

With his head clearing, a list of questions started flying through his mind. "_Where am I? How did I get here? What was I doing last?_ " As he thought, he tried to check off the answers to all of his own questions. He felt essentially blind in this unknown space. He could hear very little to help him discern the location. His last real memory had him searching a shipping warehouse with his partner. "_Where__'__s Jim?_"

Suddenly, he shouted out, "Jim!" He paused and hoped for a quick response. The echo of his call resonated in the empty darkness. Nothing…. He tried again. "Jim are you there?" He still couldn't see a thing, but he sensed he was alone. The one possible good thing was that Jim might be safe and sound. At least he could hope for this.

His next thought was to find a way to escape. Still dressed in his summer uniform, Pete could tell that his utility belt and weapon were missing. He repositioned himself onto his hands and knees trying to explore the void where he was trapped. He slowly felt his way over to a wall. He ran his bound hands along the wooden floor and then up the largely flat metal wall. He stood up and raised his hands, and still couldn't touch the ceiling. The three feet of chain limited the area he could test. In this space he found nothing to give him hope of escape like a window, door, or even a crack. At this point, he switched his focus to getting free from the bonds. He slid down the wall into a sitting position. He unhooked his nametag from his uniform shirt and proceeded to use the straight pin to work at the handcuff lock. He wasn't very confident that this method would work, but he had little else he could try. His first efforts only rewarded him with a few painful pokes to his hand and forearm while blindly stabbing the pin at the keyhole. After several minutes, his wrists ached from both the effort and the twisted position that his hands were in to reach the metal cuff lock.

He leaned his head back against the hard wall and let out a sigh. His chest heaved up and down as he took a few deep breaths and tried to calm his frayed nerves. After a few more minutes had passed, he set down his nametag. Next, he leaned down toward his feet trying to untie his left shoe and awkwardly pulled it off with one hand. Accomplishing this task, he moved onto the job of sliding his foot out of the leg iron. He jockeyed into a position in which he could wiggle his foot back and forth, in hopes of pulling his leg out of the hold. But his efforts were fruitless with the diameter of the shackle being too small for his ankle to fit through. Now he had a sore ankle along with still being trapped.

Pete hated to be out of options. He felt helpless, like the time he crashed the squad car in Griffith Park, which left his police radio inoperative. At least this time, he wasn't really injured. He deliberately closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on who would put him here and for what purpose. Time ticked away slowly with minutes turning into hours.

A distant clattering noise awakened Pete from his unplanned snooze. He opened his eyes and the dark space finally had a hint of light coming from a crack along the far wall. Pete's vision adjusted slowly to the scant light and then he looked around his confines. It appeared to be an empty boxcar. An involuntary tremble rippled through his body from the chill of the cool night. He glanced down at his watch and realized it was morning. The chain restricted him from getting to the side doors on the car, but he had a resurgence of hope. He pulled himself up, and started banging on the wall next to him using the shoe he had pulled off earlier, and then yelled for help. This went on for more than an hour before he gave up on being heard. In his restlessness, he paced up and down, but was limited to what his three-foot chain would allow.

As the next few hours passed the temperature in the boxcar rose. It was late August with summer temperatures rising into the 80's. Being trapped in a metal box was similar to being left inside a car. The heat and the lack of food and water started to take a toll on Pete. He sat quietly, leaned against the wall, and slowly unbuttoned his uniform shirt from the top down. His undershirt became drenched with sweat, his breathing slowed, and his heart rate increased. He wondered to himself, '_Can Jim find me? He did it once in Griffith Park, but does he even know where to start?__'_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The unlatching of the lever, and the sliding of a door startled Pete. Suddenly a brilliant beam of light caused him to squint, and then turn his face away, while his reflexed action was to bring up his cuffed hands to block the blinding sun. "Help me!" Slipped out in a low tone from Malloy, before he knew if this person could be his savior or his capturer coming to finish what he started.

The person blurted out, "Man, it's really hot in here!" An averaged sized man stepped in, but Pete could only see the outline of him with the sun at his back. As the man moved closer he pulled over a small wooden crate just out of range of Pete's chain and sat on it. The man set his green canvas backpack at his feet. "How are you doing, Officer Malloy?"

The voice was so familiar to Pete that it took just a few seconds of staring at his face before a name popped into his head. "Kevin?" The expression on Pete's face was one of confusion. He knew this man, really just a kid to him, as a worker at Joe's Burger Place. He and Jim had frequented the hamburger joint a number of times.

"You're good, Officer Malloy, very good."

With his head shaking in disbelief, Pete spoke, "What is going on here?"

"I thought you might want something to eat or drink."

Not focusing on his need for food or water, Pete just needed to understand what this guy had to do with him being abducted. "Kevin, tell me why I'm here!" Pete paused for a second waiting for an answer that didn't come. "What have you got to do with this?" Pete couldn't believe that this kid could be behind a kidnapping.

Kevin seemed to ignore the questions that came from the officer. "Are you sure you don't want to have something to eat? You should keep your strength up." He pulled out a wrapped hamburger from the backpack then tossed it on the ground near where Pete was sitting. Next, he lifted out a silver thermos and rolled it toward Malloy. "Maybe this will put you in a better mood."

Pete struggled to get up and moved closer to Kevin. With his fingers interlaced, he raised his hands toward his captor asking, no begging, "What do you want from me?"

Kevin glanced down as if embarrassed to say anything at first. When his eyes met those of the pleading officer, he explained, "I just want your help… um… to become a Los Angeles Police Officer."

Pete stood there in shock. "What do you mean you want my help?" He was on the verge of shouting. "Kevin, you won't get help from a person by kidnapping them." Pete showed his cuffed wrists to him, trying to remind his abductor of the extreme measures he had taken.

Kevin stumbled to get up and backed away from Pete. He was frightened by Malloy's tone. "I'm sorry, Officer Malloy, but I have tried everything else. You're my last hope."

Pete tried to subdue his anger. He could sense this young man was teetering on the edge of sanity. Malloy stepped back, trying to look less threatening. "Kevin, let's start over. Help me out of these bindings and we can sit down and talk about becoming an officer."

Kevin turned his gaze to the ground. "No!" He shook his head in confirmation of his decision. "I can't do that. I'll just go for now." He turned for the door.

"No! Kevin, don't go! Just stay and talk for a while." Pete knew his chance of getting free was in the hands of this person.

"Ok, I'll stay for a little a bit, if you sit down and eat something."

Hoping for another chance to get somewhere with Kevin, Pete sat down and unwrapped the burger. He took a bite then picked up the thermos, struggled to open it, and then took a swig of the cool cola drink inside. Pete didn't realize just how hungry he was until his stomach growled after getting the first taste of food in hours. The partially eaten burger and drink satisfied his appetite, but not his many questions. Pete's physical condition had improved somewhat from the railway car door being opened, as that brought fresh air and dissipated the heat.

Kevin was clearly watching Pete eat and settled back down on the nearby crate. Malloy thought to question his abductor while his guard was down. "What have you tried already to become a police officer?"

"I applied to the academy, but didn't get accepted."

"Do you know why they didn't accept you?"

"Not really. They just said I didn't pass the preliminary testing." He stated in a solemn tone. Then on a lighter note spoke up, "But then I took a gun safety class and learned how to shoot. And, I joined a Crime Watch group in my neighborhood."

"Those sound like good first steps, Kevin." Pete tried to sound very encouraging.

A few minutes after finishing the burger, Pete started to feel funny. His stomach was churning, and he hunched over just slightly from the discomfort. Next, Pete's eyelids felt heavy and then his next statement came out slightly slurred. "I could talk … to my command… ing officer about … you?"

"Well, I just saved up enough money and brought a police scanner. That was how I followed you and Officer Reed to the warehouse last night." Kevin could see that the sedative was taking effect.

With the mentioning of his partner, Malloy needed to know that Jim was OK, but his tongue felt thick as he tried to talk. "Is… Reed …OK?"

"Oh yeah. He didn't see me drag you off."

"Kev, … did you … put …" Mid-sentence Pete slumped over on his side. The combination of the drugged burger and drink worked it's magic. Malloy was incapacitated again.

Kevin stood up and stepped closer to Malloy, and then kicked his foot to see if he would stir at the disruption. No response. "Good. Let's get these off you to start." First, he rolled Pete onto his back then pulled out the cuff key to unlock the handcuffs. He quickly went to work on untucking his uniform shirt, then undoing the rest of the buttons. He carefully removed the shirt, then grabbed out some rope from the backpack, and tied the officer's wrists tightly together. He dropped the cuffs into his backpack then held up the uniform shirt. After examining it for any tears or stains, he noticed one thing missing. He inspected the floor around Pete and found the missing item, his police nametag. Kevin brushed his thumb across the engraved piece as he admired it, then placed it in his bag. He paused for a second beside Pete's face and whispered into his ear, "Thanks for the help." He quickly gathered up the thermos along with Pete's shirt. He zipped them into the bag then slung it over his shoulder to leave. Kevin pulled the heavy door shut and flipped the latch, creating a loud clatter as it locked.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Almost twenty-four hours earlier, Jim Reed was working his way through the warehouse in the dark when he heard a rustling sound in the room beside him. He positioned himself just outside of the office door so he could see who would emerge. As a man stepped out with a bag in his hand, Jim shouted, "Stop right there, this is the police!" The man paused for one second before turning and running the other direction. Jim was right on his heels, but the burglar knocked over garbage cans and boxes of all sizes to disrupt the officer's pursuit. Jim was slowed, but then made a last minute dive for the suspect's legs. His tackle brought down the man along with his bag of cash. Jim wrestled his arms into position behind his back, placed the cuffs, and pulled him up onto his feet. "Let's go!" He read the man his Miranda rights on the way back to the squad. "Tell me, were you acting alone?"

The guy just shrugged his shoulders. "No comment."

"Have it your way." Jim opened the back car door and guided in the perp inside, being careful to prevent him from hitting his head. Jim wondered if Pete was dealing with a second suspect since he hadn't returned to the car yet. He gave a quick shout, "Malloy!" Jim opened the driver's side door and slid in to use the radio. "This is 1 Adam-12, we have one 459 suspect in custody, but could use a back up."

The dispatcher came over the radio, "Xray-14, can you assist 1 Adam-12 at 1300 North Broadway and Lincoln Park Avenue?"

"Xray-14, roger."

Reed had five minutes of nervous waiting until the back up arrived. Officers Wells and Brinkman pulled up behind the Adam-12 car, then got out and joined Reed. "What's the situation, Reed?"

"I've got one 459 suspect in custody, but I haven't seen Pete since we split up."

"Brinkman, you stay with the suspect. Jim and I will go look for Malloy. Which way did he go?"

"He took the left side." Jim moved quickly along the far side perimeter with Ed right behind him. Both officers had their guns drawn and flashlights out. They made it around the entire building, but found no sign of Pete. As they headed back to the cars, they both silently hoped Malloy had returned before them. But no such luck. Brinkman stood there in the poorly lit parking area.

Reholstering their weapons, Ed looked over at Jim, "We better call MacDonald. Brinkman, get on the horn and ask for the sergeant. Maybe we should question your suspect."

Jim opened the rear door and helped the man out of the car. He gripped the man's arm so tightly that he possibly left a bruise. He meant business as he asked the initial questions. "What is your name?"

The suspect sensed the hostility from the officer. "Sam… Sam Turner"

"Tell me, who were you working with?" Jim expressed himself loud and clear.

"Nobody."

Jim leaned in close. "So you're telling me you didn't have a partner?"

"Yeah, I didn't have a partner!" The questioning didn't seem to be getting the officers anywhere.

Ed looked inside the man's bag he was carrying when caught. It was filled with at least ten large stacks of bills rubber banded together. "Jim, there's a couple thousand dollars here."

In a matter of minutes, Sergeant MacDonald was at the scene and asking the obvious questions. He quickly issued a missing officer broadcast over the radio. Additional LA Police Officers were dispatched to the scene to comb over every inch of the property and beyond. The owner of the warehouse arrived as well and was able to identify the suspect as a disgruntled past employee. He knew of no others that might be involved in the burglary or a possible kidnapping.

After an hour of searching the area, Mac pulled Jim aside at his wagon. "Jim, what can you tell me about your patrol today?"

"Mac, it was a routine shift. We had nothing out of the ordinary happen." Jim was just sick to his stomach. He was beating himself up trying to come up with a potential reason Pete would be missing.

"Did Pete mention anything about getting threatened by a previous perp? Any court cases that went sour?"

"Not really, Mac. We did talk about the Jennings Thornton case earlier. He was the crime buff that went to court for the concealed weapon charge. I don't think he had anything to do with this."

"Ok, Reed. Why don't you go to the station, book your suspect, and finish your report on the 459."

Jim started to argue with Mac, "I've got to keep looking for Pete!"

MacDonald laid the law down. "Jim, you have a job to do. I have a team of officers performing a search. When you're done at the station you can check back in with me."

With great reluctance, Jim took in his suspect. After two hours had passed, Jim returned to the command center. Mac was packing up the wagon as Jim pulled up. "What are you doing?" Jim could see that MacDonald was preparing to leave the area. Jim's panicked voice worried Mac.

"Reed, we have run a complete grid search of the surrounding area and have found nothing. We need a different approach to finding Malloy."

"We have to keep looking. He's out here somewhere?"

Mac took hold of Jim's shoulders, "Why don't you stop by Pete's apartment? See if anything has been disturbed. If you don't find anything out of place, check in with Jean, then call me at the station."

Reluctantly, Reed followed the directions of his sergeant. If Malloy had been kidnapped, maybe there would be a clue at his place. Fortunately, Pete had entrusted Jim with a set of keys to it. Jim pulled into the apartment complex then dashed up the stairs to his door. He cautiously stepped into the bachelor pad and proceeded to analyze everything in it. The apartment appeared to be neat and tidy, as Malloy would have left it. Jim dreaded his next stop, home. _"How am I going to tell Jean that Pete is missing?" _

Jim pulled up to the house in the black and white. Still in uniform, Jean would know something terrible was up when she saw him. He hoped she hadn't gone to sleep yet since it would be harder to wake her and break this news. As he stepped through the front door, Jean called out, "You're home early. I'll be right out." Jim went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door. He really needed a drink, but he couldn't have a beer yet since he was still on duty. He closed the door, and leaned back against the counter, then rubbed across his face, hoping to wipe away the fatigue. Jean walked into their galley kitchen, "Jim, you're still in uniform. What's going on? Are you ok?" Jim grasped both of Jean's hands with his. He looked into her eyes then glanced down, hesitant to talk. "Jim, you're scaring me. What's wrong?"

"It's Pete. He's missing."

"I don't understand. How can he be missing?"

"We went on a call earlier tonight, a burglary call at a warehouse. We didn't have any back up, and we split up to look over the business property. I came across a pried open door and then apprehended a burglary suspect. Pete went missing there."

"You searched the area for him?"

With hardly a pause, "And found NOTHING! We also didn't find any blood or any evidence of a fight."

Jean wrapped her arms around Jim and squeezed tight. "Oh, God! He has to be alright." Her voice was muffled as she spoke into Jim's shoulder while still holding him close. For that brief moment, Jim felt comforted by his loving wife.

He pulled back from Jean and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "How is little Jimmy?"

"After his bedtime story he went right down tonight."

"He's a good boy." A small grin came across Jim's face.

"Don't you worry about us. You do whatever you need to do."

"Thanks, Babe. I have to call the station." Jim stepped around her, walked into the living room to get to the house phone on the end table. "Jean, did you get any strange phone calls tonight?"

"No. The phone never rang except for my mother calling earlier."

"Ok." Jim called in and spoke with Mac. He gave an update on Pete's untouched apartment. At this point, there were no leads to follow. Mac suggested that Jim get some rest, but suspected he would refuse. Jim did just that, and stated he was on his way in to look through some of their old case files, hoping to find who might be involved in Pete's disappearance.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Not long after leaving Malloy, who was still chained in the boxcar, Kevin returned home. He buffed and buffed the black leather shoes until he could see his reflection in the shine. Next, Kevin finished ironing out the uniform shirt, taking special care when going over the sleeves where the stripes were sewn on. After putting away the iron, he stood in front of a full body mirror as he buttoned up the shirt and tucked it into the matching dark pants. He picked up the heavy utility belt and cinched it tight, then holstered the weapon and tapped it twice. The last piece in the uniform puzzle was the policeman's hat. First, he slicked back his hair using some gel and a comb. Fortunately, for him, Malloy's hat fit him pretty well. As he looked himself over, he felt a newfound confidence. He glanced down at the badge numbered '744' and ran his fingers across the nameplate. "Goodbye Kevin Mitchell, and hello Officer Malloy! Time to go to work."

After making his way out to the black and white Caprice, he slid behind the wheel and flipped on the police scanner for his first official AM watch. As the dash clock showed eleven o'clock sharp, the scanner was buzzing with police chatter. Two units were in route to a drugstore holdup on La Brea and Venice Blvd. Another squad was dispatched to a TA on the Santa Monica Freeway just off the Crenshaw exit. Kevin decided to cruise along Washington Avenue where a stretch of bars saw lots of action at this time of night. If he didn't get a direct order from the radio, he would create one himself. He pulled the car up to the curb and climbed out for foot patrol. He decided to keep guard over the strip of drinking establishments, making trips up and down both sides of the street. The sight of a uniformed officer walking the beat kept many people in check. A disturbance just outside Hank's Bar got the full attention of this "officer". He heard an exchange of foul language and their voices grew into shouts. The sidewalk was dimly lit and a long burgundy awning stretched out toward the street, creating more shadows. He could see a small cluster of folks outside the entrance to the bar, with a six-foot, slim blond guy confronting a shorter, stockier fellow. As Kevin stepped in, he had to separate the two men who had begun shoving each other. "Alright, fellas, let's break it up!" They stepped back at first in response to the officer, but it didn't last long with both men intoxicated and their emotions running high.

"The jerk messed with my girl!" The short, stocky guy took a swing at the other man, and the officer ducked just in time to miss being hit. As he stood back up he pulled out his baton and jammed it into the shorter man's gut, knocking the wind out of him.

Kevin turned to the taller man. "You better clear out. I don't want to see you back here tonight."

The guy raised his hands as if giving up. "OK! I'm outta here." The man then staggered down the sidewalk and away from Hank's Bar.

At this point the officer focused his attention on the shorter man. "Now, I think your done drinking for the evening. Go find your girl and stay out of trouble."

"Yes, Sir." With his arm wrapped around his mid-section in a protective manner, he stumbled back into the bar. Kevin then returned to his foot patrol.

A couple blocks away, Kevin came upon a younger girl dressed in knee-high boots and a blue woven mini-skirt and blouse. She was dabbing her eyes with a hanky and sniffling. "Can I help you, ma'am?"

"My boyfriend and I got into a fight. I need a ride home, but I don't have any money for a taxi."

Kevin thought, '_An officer__'__s duty is to help._' "It's going to be OK." He walked her over to the next corner and pulled out his wallet. "Here you go. This should get you home. A bus should be by any minute." He pulled out a bill and placed it in her hand."

"Oh, thank you so much Officer!"

Kevin's chest puffed out a bit as he heard the praise. He told her, "Have a good night, ma'am," then he walked on. He spent another hour in the neighborhood looking for an opportunity to act, but things got much quieter in the early morning hours. He climbed back into his car and turned up the scanner volume to listen for any new calls. He decided to cruise the area of a possible prowler as noted over the airwaves, but if he didn't see anything, he would head for home. He realized he still had to work the next day at his other job.

Before turning in for the night, Kevin carefully removed the nametag, badge, and shooting medal, then washed the uniform. After just a few short hours of sleep, he somehow transformed himself back into the burger guy for a daytime shift at Joe's. He handled the lunch and early dinner crowd like any normal day, but remembered to grab a meal to go for his "friend" as he checked in on him. He wasn't sure how long this situation would exist, but at this point he felt like he owed him.

Turning back the clock, and returning to the station…

Mac called Jim into his office. "It's been over twenty-four hours since Pete's disappearance and we're no closer to finding him. The detectives haven't turned up any cases involving Pete that led to any clues. Jim, you can't run yourself into the ground or you won't be any help to anyone, including Malloy. Go home! That's an order! I promise I will have someone call you if we get any leads."

Jim wanted to argue, but he was just too exhausted to even start. He had been awake for more than thirty-six hours straight. "You promise to call if you hear anything?"

"You can count on it."

Pete stirred. He eyes opened, but he could barely see through the veil of darkness within the boxcar. He found himself flat on his back and still bound and chained to the floor, but something felt different. As he twisted around to push himself up, he became aware of the rope binding his hands instead of the metal cuffs. He managed to pull himself up into a sitting position, even with the dizziness from the sedative. He shook his head once, trying to clear it. A dry cough left a bitter taste in his mouth. The scratchy rope was wrapped numerous times around his wrists, restricting his movement even more. Next, Pete grabbed a fistful of his cotton undershirt. '_Where's my uniform shirt? What is this kid doing?' _Pete started to put together the pieces to the puzzle. '_Oh my god, he's going to pose as__ me?!'_

Another night passed and Jim showed up at the station in the morning. While dressing in the locker room, Wells, Brinkman, and Woods all paused at Jim's locker to check in with him. "Any news on Pete?" Jerry asked.

Reed glanced down and just shook his head in despair. "We had nothing when I left last night."

Jerry puts a hand on Reed's shoulder. "Something has to break soon."

Jim stopped in MacDonald's office to see if anything came up last night. Mac was in a meeting with Lieutenant Moore discussing an unusual report that went across his desk just an hour ago. He walked into his office and found Reed sitting next to his desk.

"Did you get any sleep Jim?"

"Not much." He let out a big sigh. "So, any news?"

"Well, not really, but one strange thing just got reported that I want to investigate."

Jim gave Mac a questioning look. "Could it have anything to do with Pete?"

"That's what I was wondering myself. We received a complaint about an officer injuring a patron at Hank's Bar off of Washington Avenue. The report says a beat cop stopped a fight outside by slamming his baton into one man's abdomen. The person issuing the complaint didn't get a badge number or a name."

"Did we have any patrols in the area last night?"

"No, that's just it. We don't have anyone on foot patrol at that hour of night. Jim, maybe you can follow up with the PR after roll call. Speaking of that, we need to get going." Mac scooped up his folder and headed out with Reed right behind him. During roll call, Mac gave an abbreviated version of the unusual complaint. Many of the officers mumbled to each other at the strange situation. The sergeant called out all the pairings including Woods and Reed in Adam-12. He also reviewed the status or lack of information on the disappearance of Officer Malloy. "Keep your eyes and ears open for any possible leads. Nothing is too small to share. Now get out there and be safe!"

Wells and Brinkman came up to Mac after roll call. Ed asked, "Is there anything your not telling us about Malloy?"

"No, but police don't just vanish into thin air. The longer he's missing, the less likely we'll find him alive." Mac looked like he was going to be sick as his statement sank in.

Brinkman in a hushed voice said, "It's Pete. He's not a quitter."

"We'll find him, Mac." Ed tried to hang onto some hope.

"Guys, try to keep an eye on Jim too."

"You got it, Mac. Let's go Brinkman."

Later that morning Reed and Woods tracked down the person who reported the complaint at Hank's Bar. "Excuse me, Mr. Billings. I'm Officer Reed and this is Officer Woods. We would like to hear your story on last night's incident that occurred outside of Hank's Bar.

"Oh, sure thing. Well, I was arguing with this guy outside because he had been messing with my girlfriend in the bar. Then this cop showed up and stepped between us. Before I knew it, he rammed a Billy club into my gut. I think he cracked one of my ribs!"

Jim raised his hand to interrupt. "How do you know he was a police officer?"

"Because he looked like one. He was dressed just like you two."

"Did you happen to see his nametag or his badge number?" Woods chirped in.

"No, it all happened so fast."

"Did you notice if the officer had any metals or stripes on his uniform?"

"Not really."

"Did he have a partner or leave in a car?" Jim continued to ask.

"No, he was alone. He walked up and left the same way."

"Can you at least tell us what the officer looked like?"

"Uh, yeah. He was about six foot, brown hair, and young."

"Was he a heavy, medium, or light build, and how young would you guess?"

"He was on the lean side. I would say he look like he was twenty three or four."

"Do you remember what the officer said to you?"

"He just told me to stop drinking, get my girl, and leave."

Jim gave a frustrated glance to Woods. "Thank you, Mr. Billings for your time. We are going to look into the situation and you should be receiving a follow-up call from the precinct."

"Hey, what's with all the questions about the cop?"

"The man may not have been an officer." Jim stated as a matter of fact.

Then the two turned to leave and Billings spouted, "You can't claim the guy wasn't a cop to get out of compensating me. I was injured and have medical expenses to pay. I'll go after the department and the city!"

Jim had a bigger issue on his mind and dismissed the threats made by Billings. He took to the driver's seat and immediately grabbed the mike to radio in. "This is 1 Adam-12, requesting a supervisor on Tac 2."

"1 Adam-12, this is MacDonald. Go ahead."

"Mac, we spoke to the PR. His description of the officer couldn't be Pete. He said he was six foot, brown hair, with a light build, and about twenty-four years old. The guy was pretty sure he was wearing our uniform."

"Ok, Jim. Thanks for following up on that. Why don't you and Woods clear yourselves and get back on patrol."

"Mac, can we stop at Hank's Bar and see if anyone else can give a better description of the officer from last night?"

"That's a good idea. Let me know if you learn anything else."

"Roger, Mac."

Adam-12 car pulled up to the curb beside Hank's Bar. Jim and Jerry went in and leaned up against the bar. Hardly a soul was there except the owner who asked, "What can I do for you officers?"

"We just wanted to check in with you about a situation that occurred just outside of the bar last night involving two patrons and an officer."

"Sure thing. What do you need?"

"Can you give us the names of some of your regulars who might have been here last night and happened to be outside when the fight occurred?"

"Why don't you boys come back tonight and then I can steer you in the direction of who was here. I don't rightly know the customers by anything other than their first names."

"What time would you recommend?"

"Why don't you swing by around ten or eleven o'clock."

"We'll do, but if you think of anything before then, please call the station." Jim handed the owner a business card with his phone number.


	5. Chapter 5

Thank you to all who have left a review. I appreciate hearing from you. Sorry to those who might be looking for a non-fictional story. I guess it's more fun for me to write crazy fiction.

Chapter 5

Kevin made his way over to the old train yards carrying another food offering for Malloy that he brought from Joe's. It was close to 7:00 PM and the sun was sinking in the sky. The day had been warm, but not quite as hot and humid as the one before it. As he opened the door latch to go into the railcar, a less intense wave of heat washed over him. He climbed in and saw Pete sitting against the far wall with his eyes shut. He appeared to be sleeping and was still bound by his left ankle chain and his wrists tied with rope. His white undershirt looked gray from dirt and was darkened by sweat, especially around his neck, chest, and armpits. Pete's hair was damp from heavy perspiring, his cheeks flushed from the heat, and his chin stubbly from the lack of shaving.

"Officer Malloy, I brought you something." Kevin pulled over the crate to sit on. After scooting it closer, but still out of Pete's range, he sat down with another thermos and bag of food in hand. Pete didn't move or say a thing. Kevin shuddered at the thought that Malloy may have died. '_Did I give him too high a dose of the sedative yesterday?__' _Kevin tentatively moved closer to see if Pete was breathing, then he decided to toss the thermos into his lap. Pete jerked when the metal cylinder hit his chest. His eyes cracked open, but he didn't seem all there. "Officer Malloy, can you hear me?"

Slightly delirious Pete muttered, "Jim?"

"No, it's me, Kevin."

Pete kept blinking his eyes trying to focus on the face a few feet away. "Water?" He whispered.

"You've got a thermos in your lap."

A bit disoriented, Pete looked down and found the container beside him. He licked his dry lips before asking, "Is it drugged?"

"No, I promise it's not."

Desperate for a drink, Malloy picked it up. He struggled to unscrew the lid because of the stinging numbness in his hands. He managed to get it open and took a much-needed drink. Unfortunately, Kevin gave him sweet cola again instead of the much-needed water. "Here have some food too." He tossed him the bag with another burger inside. Pete gulped down another swallow of the syrupy brown liquid. He craved the wetness, but had no desire to eat and ignored the burger. As the sugar from the cola started to kick in, Pete's mind cleared. He took a few more precious swallows of the elixir.

Pete fought to keep his eyes open. The heat exhaustion had zapped every ounce of his strength. "Kevin, … you can still fix this. Let me go."

"I'm sorry, Officer Malloy. Not yet."

"Where's my gun? My badge?"

"I'm taking good care of them."

"You know … you can't just put on a uniform … and become a police officer?"

"But, I am. I've gone out and helped people."

Pete shut his eyes for a second as he thought. He needed to shift his approach with his captor. "You know ... that an officer's duty … is 'to protect and serve', Right?"

"Yes."

Pete tried to play into Kevin's fantasy. "Kevin, you're not … protecting me. You need … to do your job!"

Kevin turned his gaze to the ground as Pete's statement created an internal conflict. "Just give me a little more time," was his plea, and then he stood up to go.

"What day is it?"

"It's Saturday."

"Kevin, I'm not going last another day like this." Pete strained to swallow. His mouth was so dry from the lack of saliva. Pete knew he was in big trouble. He hadn't urinated for at least a day, which meant he was severely dehydrated.

Kevin shuffled toward the door.

"Don't leave, Kevin!"

"I'll be back. I promise," He said as he quickly exited and closed the door. "I've got to do my job," he mumbled to himself over and over as he stepped over the tracks.

"PLEASE! Help me!" The last two words faded into silence.

Pete raised his hands and pressed his right forearm against his brow as he sucked in a deep breath. Usually a man with great self-control, Pete lost it, and shouted an exacerbated, "Damn you!" He reached for his shoe in the dim light then flung it across the boxcar with all his might causing a loud thud! The action gave him little satisfaction. After another hour had passed, Pete was again in complete darkness. Any real hope of rescue was fading and Pete's heart sank.

That evening, Kevin was prepping his police uniform for another night of patrol. He had dressed the part from top to bottom. He didn't want to let his idol down. He was going to be perfect.

It was 10:00 PM when Jim and Jerry went back to Hank's Bar. They hoped to talk with some regular patrons that may have remembered more about the unknown officer from the previous night. They arrived and went straight to the counter and found the owner tending bar. He did as he promised and pointed out some regulars that Jim and Jerry could talk with. Both officers found a couple people who happened to be outside during the fight. Only one, Margaret Best, remembered seeing the officer up close. Jim asked, "Did you happen to see his nametag or badge?"

"Yes, I did. I was so shocked when he hit the man with the club that I took a good look at his nametag. His name was Malloy. Officer Malloy."

Jim quickly questioned her about the officer's description. "What did he look like?"

"He was around your height and thin, brown hair, brown eyes, very young, maybe twenty-four."

"Thank you, ma'am!"

"I hope he gets into trouble for how he handled that situation."

"Miss Best, this man was posing as an officer. We're hoping to find him ourselves." Jim went to the owner and asked to use his phone.

"No problem. Help yourself, it's at the end of the bar."

"Mac, it's Reed. I just spoke to a customer at Hank's bar and she saw the nametag of the officer last night. It was Malloy's, but her description didn't match Pete. Somebody is posing as an officer, and they are using Pete's uniform. If we find the imposter, maybe he will lead us to Pete."

"Give me the description and we will broadcast it out to all units."

"Mac, what if this guy has a police scanner. We could scare him off if he hears his description on a broadcast."

"Your right, Jim. We'll review his description at roll call and put out a broadcast for all patrolling units to phone into the station."

"Mac, this is the complete run down on his description again. He is about six feet tall, brown hair, brown eyes, light build, in his early twenties, and wearing a Los Angeles Police Officer uniform with level III ranking strips and a sharp shooter medal."

Within the hour all officers were on the lookout for the rogue officer. The rule of thumb was to have each man identify himself at every scene.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Kevin was back in his world as an officer hitting the streets. His scanner was tuned in for another late night shift. He was his own team of one, and he felt indestructible. Dispatch announced a multiple-car TA at Silver Lake and Sunset Boulevard. Maybe he could blend in and give some assistance. He parked his car just a block off the intersection and walked toward the accident scene. He spotted a black and white blocking off the oncoming traffic on Sunset so he moved up and over one block on Silver Lake. He stepped out into the intersection to direct traffic around the area. Without a vest he used his flashlight to divert drivers away. When another squad car pulled up to assist a few minutes later, they checked in with the lead officer, Walters, and asked him who was working the intersection at Silver Lake. Walters responded, "I didn't know I had help yet. You better go check out who it is." When the officers in the squad turned to walk down the street, there was no sign of Kevin directing traffic anymore. Walters went to his radio and reported back to the commanding officer of the possibility that the imposter may have just been there.

Back in his car, Kevin drove off to find another opportunity to serve. He kept mumbling over and over, "I've got to do my job." The scanner was coming to life. First, there was a disturbance call at Lincoln Heights Library at 2530 Workman Street. Then, dispatch announced a silent 211 for Nate's Liquor Store at 4412 Huntington Drive. Kevin was close to the liquor store. He turned his car around and raced along North Mission Road until he got within a block of the store. He decided to cover the exit route and crept up the alley just behind the store. He baled from the car and found the store's back door. Kevin's heart was pounding as he experienced his first real endorphin high as he closed in on a criminal. He heard a shout from inside, as the robber demanded the cash. He didn't think another squad had arrived yet since he hadn't seen any lights or heard any sirens. Kevin was waiting for just the right moment to step into action. Then he heard a crash inside from a bottle dropping and shattering on the floor. He took a position just behind the dumpster so he could swing out and stop a fleeing suspect. He guessed right, because seconds later the back door flung open and two perps came charging out. Kevin shouted, "Stop right there! This is the police!" as he pointed his weapon at them.

Startled by the police presence, the first man stopped in his tracks dropped his gun as his hands went up. The second robber coming up the rear turned tail and ran back into the store. Kevin shouted at the first perp to get on the ground and spread eagle. Then he kicked away the gun, did a hand pat-down looking for any other weapons like he had seen Malloy and Reed do before. Kevin went to pull out the cuffs and almost dropped them because of his sweaty hands, but was able to adjust and proceeded to handcuff the suspect.

The second suspect ran straight through the store and out the front door, gripping a gun in his right and a satchel of cash in his left. Wells and Brinkman in Xray-45 had just slid to a stop in front of the shop. They flipped open their doors and safely positioned themselves behind them. Ed demanded, "Drop your weapon or I'll shoot!" The man popped off two quick shots before both officers returned fire. The man was knocked to the ground, fatally hit in the chest and abdomen. 1 Adam-12 arrived just as the man went down. Ed waved to Jim, "Go check around back! See if there is another suspect. Brinkman, call for an ambulance." Ed went over to the suspect and picked up the gun. He felt for a pulse, but found nothing. He walked into the store and found the storekeeper crouched behind the counter and second suspect captured and cuffed being led in by a fellow officer from the rear of the building. Ed joked, "The good guys one and the bad guys zip." He glanced at the Kevin and asked, "Did you read him his rights?"

Kevin tilted his head down so that Wells couldn't really see his face between the hat's brim and the suspect's broad shoulders blocking the officer's uniform. "I was just about to do that." The imposter pulled out the card from his chest pocket; he then read them over as he walked the robber to Xray-45. Kevin loaded the man into the back seat of the squad as Brinkman kept the onlookers back and prepared to wave in the ambulance.

Jim came in through the back of the store. Ed was helping the shopkeeper up when he spoke to Reed. "Woods took the suspect to the car."

Reed stopped and glared at Wells. "What do you mean? He's out back calling in a code four since there wasn't another perp."

Just then it hit Wells. '_If that wasn__'__t Woods who just walked through the store, who caught the second suspect?__'_

He threw his hands up in front of Reed. "Jim, I think the imposter is here. He just walked out a second suspect to the squad." Jim started to press forward, and Ed stopped him. "You go around back in case he tries to slip away. He came from the rear of the building." Jim hustled out the back door and motioned for Jerry to join him. Ed made his way out the front and saw Brinkman occupied with the ambulance attendants. He looked to his left and right and saw no other officer. Ed stepped up to his squad to find the second suspect sitting alone in the back seat. "Brinkman get over here! Watch this guy!" Wells jogged to the end of the building at the street corner and glanced both ways. He spotted Kevin walking away from the scene into a poorly lit area of the street. Ed shouted to the unknown officer, "Hey, hold on a minute!" At that moment, Kevin started to sprint off, but the race was short-lived. Jim came tearing out of the alley at track star speed and tackled the imposter in the middle of the street, sending his hat flying. Jerry was right behind Jim to help to cuff and disarm Kevin. Ed got there as they helped him up, but in the darkness they still couldn't see the man's face or his identification badge. Woods reached down and picked up the hat. They began to walk back toward the illuminated area in front of the liquor store.

Kevin finally spoke, "You're making a mistake. I was just doing my job."

As the three officers and the imposter came into adequate light, Jim and Jerry held Kevin by his upper arms, one on each side, and positioned him against the front of the squad. The three LA cops went down the line, seeing Malloy's badge, nametag, shooting metal attached to his uniform shirt, and confiscated police-issued weapon. They all stood there, speechless until Jim looked directly in the man's eyes and recognized him. "KEVIN?"

Brinkman interrupted, "Mac is on his way down to the scene," and then he saw the man leaning against the squad wearing a Los Angeles Police uniform in handcuffs. "What's going on?"

A distressed shout came from the rear seat of the squad, "Hey, he's not a cop?"

Ed glanced back, "Be quiet! You will get your turn."

As Reed's shock wore off, his anger and desperation kicked up a notch. "Kevin, where is Officer Malloy?"

He shook his head in confusion, repeating, "I'm Officer Malloy. I was just doing my job."

Jim instantly leaned into him. "Kevin, it's me, Jim Reed. You know Pete Malloy is my partner. He has been missing for over FIFTY-FIVE hours! You need to tell me where he is RIGHT NOW!"

Kevin glanced off to the side then without looking directly at anyone said, "Like I said before, I'm Officer Malloy."

Jim's voice grew louder. "I don't believe you Kevin!" He reached over and grabbed the hat from Woods. He raised it up to Kevin's face. "You're wearing Pete's uniform."

Jerry started to worry that Jim was going to lose it. He tried to pull Jim back from the confrontational position he had taken. "Come on Jim. Let's just wait for Mac to get here."

Jim replied, "We have wasted enough time!"

Then Ed Wells intervened. "Come on, Jim. Let's take a walk." He put a hand on Reed's shoulder and squeezed. Jim reluctantly went with him and then let out a big sigh as he finally released the breath he had been holding. "Jim, we all want the same thing, to find Pete, but we have to handle this right."

Jim clutched tightly to his friends hat. "It's just so frustrating. I feel like we are so close to finding my partner."

"How do you know this guy, Jim?"

"The kid works at Joe's Burgers. Pete and I ate there on Thursday." Jim's head tilted as another thought popped into his mind. "Actually, that was the last meal we had before Pete went missing, and Kevin served us our dinner."

The sergeant's wagon pulled up as the two officers talked. Mac donned his hat and stepped up to Reed and Wells. "So give me the breakdown of the shooting."

Wells spoke first, "It's much more than a 211 with one suspect shot and killed. We caught Pete's imposter!"

That statement got Mac's full attention.

"The imposter made an appearance and captured the second suspect fleeing the liquor store. After the arrest and placing the man in the squad, our fake officer decided to make a run for it. After taking into account all of officers on the scene, I realized we had an unknown player. Reed and Woods went around to the back of the store while I jogged around the front. Jim took him down and now he's with Woods and Brinkman."

"Has he admitted to where Malloy is?"

"No." While anxiously fumbling with Pete's hat, Jim shared, "He hasn't said much. He claimed to be Pete and that he was just doing his job."

"OK, is this guy dealing with a full deck?" Mac pressed both men.

"I kind of know him, Mac. His name is Kevin. He works at a burger joint that Pete and I have eaten at a number of times. He seemed like a decent guy."

MacDonald asked, "Did you read him his rights yet?" Mac would love to put the squeeze on the suspect for information with his man at risk, but he knows he better follow proper procedures.

Ed responded, "No, not yet. Actually, we should say them again to the 211 suspect since Kevin, the imposter, read the Miranda rights to him."

"Jim, you and Woods take Kevin and the 211 suspect to the station for booking and questioning. I need to verify some statements here before I can follow you in. Ed, you and Brinkman need to finish up with the report here, and then return to the station for the shooting review board before you can get back on patrol."

"Mac, but what about Pete?"

"Jim you need to keep Kevin talking. Since you have some history with him, you might have the best luck getting somewhere. If not, we should have a detective on the case question him. I will put in a call to Sgt. Miller. First order of business is to find out his last name and do some digging. We can check out his address or anyone he might be close with to start."

"OK. OK."

Jim understood the steps they were taking were the right ones, but his gut kept telling him that Pete was running out of time. Jim went through the store to bring the squad around front. Woods helped load the two men in the back of Adam-12, and then made their way back to the station. Mac stayed and took some photos of the scene at the liquor store for evidence in the shooting, and then asked some questions of the shopkeeper before hurrying back to the station.

Kevin wasn't talking at this point, and Jim was struggling to get through to him. Maybe getting Kevin out of Pete's uniform would help serve as a wake-up call. Kevin was booked into the jail and was given a pair of orange coveralls to put on and wear. Jim took away the uniform for evidence, and it was put under lock and key. Kevin was placed in a holding cell while Jim and Jerry did some quick calls to gather preliminary information before questioning him further.

A short time later, MacDonald arrived at Central Division Station and quickly got on the horn to Lieutenant Moore to apprise him of the new developments in the missing officer case. Then he found Reed and Woods to get a quick rundown on the information they had learned so far.

Jim started, "Mac, his name is Kevin Mitchell, and he's only twenty-two years old. His parents are deceased, and he has lived with his aunt and uncle for the last seven years."

Jerry then shared, "The detectives are in route to their home now. After searching their place they plan to bring them in for questioning."

Jim went on, "His uncle, Scott Mitchell, is a local dentist. He shared that Kevin is a good young man, but he has been a bit of an introvert and insecure since the death of his parents. They couldn't name any close friends of Kevin."

Just as Reed and Woods finished going over what they had learned, Sgt. Jerry Miller walked up.

"Hey, Jerry. Thanks for coming in so quickly." MacDonald acknowledged. "We could really use your help."

Miller nodded to Jim, "Jim, how are you holding up?"

"It's getting tougher by the hour."

"What has it been now, fifty-two hours?"

"Fifty-six hours!"

MacDonald suggested, "Let's go get a cup of coffee and go over what we know."

Miller responded, "That sounds good. At the last update, we had no leads except the person impersonating an officer. I have already reviewed the ins and outs of the case, but I could use Jim to help fill in any gaps."

The caffeine was a welcome boost to all the men at that early morning hour. "Jim, I think it was a smart move to get Kevin out of Pete's uniform. If he is trying to live a fantasy, maybe removing the clothes will break him back into reality. I believe we should have his uncle go in when he gets here. Hopefully, he will strike a cord with him … his real family."

Just when the officers stood up to head to the holding cell, another officer stepped into the lounge. "Excuse me, Sgt. MacDonald. We received a call from the detectives at the Mitchell residence. They wanted to inform you that they found no sign of Officer Malloy being held at the home, but they did find a stash of drugs in the suspect's room. They said it was a combination of sedatives including Ketamine and Diazepam."

Miller commented, "That's probably how he got the upper hand on Malloy, by drugging him. Reed, didn't you say that you had dinner at the burger place right before your last call prior to when Pete went missing?"

"Yeah, you're right. Kevin delivered our meals."

"I wonder how Mitchell got his hands on the controlled drugs?"

"Well, his uncle is a dentist. Maybe he gave him access to them or he just stole them."

MacDonald asked the officer at the door, "Did they give you an ETA on the Mitchells' arrival at the station?"

"They said, twenty minutes."

"Please bring the Mitchell's directly to the Watch Commander Office upon their arrival."

"Yes, Sir."

The officers headed to the holding cell area wanting to press forward with further questioning of Kevin Mitchell. Every man felt the pressure of the time passing and the hope fading for finding Pete alive. Sgt. Miller went in, introduced himself, and sat down beside Kevin. Reed was asked to wait outside, and he anxiously paced up and down the hall. Almost fifteen minutes later, the Mitchell's came down the hallway and were led into MacDonald's office.

Mac stood up as the couple entered his office. "I'm Sergeant MacDonald."

"I'm Dr. Mitchell and this is my wife Sarah." The man was wearing a suit jacket with a white dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar. His wife looked a bit disheveled in a blue dress and gray overcoat from the middle-of-the-night rousting.

"Why don't you take a seat." He directed the couple to the two chairs in front of his desk. "Did the detectives fill you in on the situation involving your nephew?"

The uncle spoke up, "Yes, but we still can't believe that he would be capable of kidnapping and impersonating an officer."

"Well, he was apprehended while wearing the missing officer's uniform."

The dentist shook his head in disbelief. "What do you want from us?"

"We would really appreciate you talking with Kevin. We need to know where Officer Malloy is. Time is of the essence. So far, Kevin has insisted that he is Officer Malloy. He seems to be delusional at this point. We hope you can get through to him."

"I'll do what I can."

MacDonald waved to Jim as he passed by his door. "Officer Reed, take Dr. Mitchell into see Kevin. Stay and observe them, please."

Jim led the man down the hallway to the holding area. His uncle seemed nervous about entering the room glancing down at his watch. It was three AM and the station was quiet. The door to the room had a window so he looked in to see his nephew dressed in prison attire and handcuffed to a metal bracket on the table. Kevin looked to be in a daze.

When Scott walked into the holding area, Sgt. Miller stood up and moved aside to allow him to sit down in front of Kevin. The hazy glare in Kevin's eyes miraculously cleared after he looked into the face of his uncle.

With a stern tone Dr. Mitchell spoke up, "Kevin, what is going on here? They tell me you kidnapped someone!"

It was like a switch was flipped. Kevin's head dropped as a look of shame hit him all at once.

Both Reed and Miller saw an instant change in Kevin's demeanor.

Mitchell asked again, "Did you really do this?"

He barely nodded his head as he spoke, "I only wanted to be a police officer… I didn't know what else to do."

"Kevin, listen to me. You need to answer these officer's questions."

Jerry pulled over a chair and sat close to the suspect. "Kevin, is Officer Malloy OK?"

"I didn't hurt him."

"You need to tell me where he is!"

"He's … in a boxcar."

"Where is this boxcar, Kevin?"

"At the old Taylor Yards near Division Street and San Fernando Road."

The detective glanced back at Reed and said, "Get going!"


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Jim dashed out, stopping briefly at Mac's office to give him the news. MacDonald proceeded to put out a broadcast for any available units to meet at Taylor Yards to search for the missing officer before following behind 1-Adam-12. Jim joined up with Woods and the two were in route to the old rail yards running Code 3. Both officers wondered if Kevin sent them on a wild goose chase, or if not, how many boxcars would they have to search to find Malloy.

As they pulled into Taylor Yards, another four squads came to a quick halt alongside their vehicle. The group of officers circled up. Reed directed the others saying, "Pete is supposed to be in one of these boxcars. Let's spread out and open every one. Shout out if you find him." Ten men with flashlights at the ready fanned out.

Approximately eighty cars lined the old tracks throughout the rail yards. All the officers were calling out "Malloy" as they approached each car hoping to hear a response from Pete.

Jim and Jerry were on their tenth car when they heard a shout. "He's over here! We found him!"

Jim took off at a sprint. He was fortunate to not twist an ankle running over the rails to get to the boxcar. Just as he got to the open door of the railway car, Officer Sanchez hopped down from inside. "I'm calling an ambulance and grabbing a crowbar. I'll be right back."

Jim climbed up into the car. His flashlight shone on his best friend sprawled out on the hard floor with Officer Walters crouched over him.

Jim froze. He swallowed the lump in his throat before asking, "Is he alive?"

Jerry Walters glanced up, "He has a pulse. Can you shine your light on his wrists?"

Jim came close and directed the beam there while Walters pulled out a small pocketknife and began cutting the rope, releasing Pete's raw wrists after two and a half days.

"Can you hear me, Pete?" Jerry asked.

No response came. Pete lay completely still with matted down hair and sweat-stained t-shirt and pants from hours on the floor of the hot humid boxcar.

Jim then spotted the heavy shackle on his partner's ankle. Reed ran his hand under the links, "Is this why Sanchez went for a crowbar?"

Walters responded, "Yeah. He has him chained in here like an animal." Both officers flashed their lights around inside the car and only saw a crumpled brown bag, a gray thermos, a small wooden crate, and one shoe. Jim kneeled down next to Malloy.

Desperate to roust his friend, Jim shook his partner's shoulders. "Wake up Pete! Talk to me!"

Suddenly, Pete's eyes opened, his pupils were dilated, and the white's of his eyes were bloodshot. A delirious Malloy grabbed out at what was closest to him, grasping Jim's shirt. "Don't leave, Kevin!" was his cry.

Jim dropped the flashlight and took a firm hold on his partner's forearms. "Pete, it's me! JIM!" The panic in Pete's voice shook Jim to the core. Pete continued to hold on to Jim, but he had little strength left in him. Reed and Walters tried to reassure him.

"Malloy! We're here to help you!"

After hearing his name over again, Pete recognized the familiar voice of his partner. Head throbbing, heart pounding, and chest heaving, Pete finally gasped, "Jim?"

"Yes, it's me, Jim, and you have Jerry Walters here too. It's over Pete. We're going to get you out of here."

Pete finally released Jim's shirt then whispered, "Water?" His plea was followed by a dry cough.

Just then Sanchez climbed into the car carrying the crowbar. Jim shouted to Woods waiting just outside the boxcar, "Can you find some water quickly?"

"On it!"

Walters and Sanchez carefully worked the crowbar into a leveraged position to pry open the chain link attached to the metal plate on the boxcar floor. With the strength of both men the link was pulled open and the trapped Malloy was finally free, at least free enough to leave the confines of the boxcar. They had yet to remove the shackle and attached chain links. The men heard the siren of the oncoming ambulance. Jerry Woods returned with a bottle of water and was followed by one worried superior. MacDonald boarded the car wanting to see the condition of his officer and friend.

He took a knee beside the flat out officer. Malloy rolled his head toward the new blurred face above him. "Mac?"

"Yeah. Pete, how are you doing?"

"Lousy."

Woods passed the bottle to Reed. "I've got some water. Let me help you sit up." The sergeant and Jim assisted Pete into an upright position and then a burst of pain shot through Pete's head from the elevated position. He pinched shut his eyes and moaned.

Jim asked, "Are you OK?"

"Uh huh"

Jim offered a sip of water, which Pete eagerly took. When handed the water bottle itself, it slipped right out of Malloy's hand.

"I'm sorry Pete."

Pete looked confused then shook his hands trying to stop the tingling sensation he felt. "They're numb."

Jim picked up the bottle then lifted it back up to Pete's lips for another much-needed drink.

Pete just wasn't satisfied with a sip. "More…" he pleaded, then reached out to direct Jim's hand to let him keep drinking from the bottle.

"Take it slow, Partner."

The ambulance attendants arrived at the boxcar with a stretcher.

One of the attendants spoke up, "Excuse me, gentlemen. Step aside so we can get him ready for transport."

Officer Walters directed, "Be careful. He has a heavy chain and shackle on his ankle."

"We can get some bolt cutters to take it off at the hospital," the attendant responded.

With reluctance, the fellow officers backed up to let the attendants do their work. In no time, they had Pete on the gurney, the loose chain situated between his legs, and a sheet over him with straps secured. The one attendant announced they would be taking him to Central Receiving.

MacDonald directed, "Reed, ride along with him to the hospital. I will be right behind you."

"Thanks Mac." Along with Walters, Jim helped the attendants carry the gurney out over the tracks until they could load it into the ambulance.

On the ride in, Pete asked Jim, "What happened to Kevin?"

"He was apprehended at the scene of a 211 posing as you. He captured one of the suspects before trying to disappear into the woodwork."

As Reed shared how things went down, Pete's eyes closed and he seemed to doze off. The quiet state of his partner suddenly alarmed Jim.

The attendant put a hand on Jim's shoulder and shared, "It's OK. I think he just fell asleep."

Jim let out a huge sigh. He queried the attendant in a whisper, "Is he going to be alright?"

"I think so."

The ambulance pulled in and they moved Malloy into a treatment room. A nurse stopped Jim from following and led him to a waiting area. When Jim finally sat down he dropped his head into his hands. The fatigue of the last three days had taken a toll.

A couple hours later, the doctor came out and delivered the good news to Jim and Mac and a few other boys in blue. "Gentlemen, your friend, Officer Malloy, is going to be just fine. He was suffering from severe heat exhaustion and some heat stroke as well. We have started rehydrating him with intravenous fluids and so far his kidneys seem to be responding well. I believe if he continues to improve at this rate, he may be released in another twenty four hours."

"That's just great, Doc." MacDonald stood up and gave an appreciative handshake. "Is it OK if we visited with him for a bit?"

"Sure thing, Sergeant. He was moved into room 317."

Jim, Mac, Woods, Wells, and Brinkman all made their way up to the third floor. Jim and MacDonald were the first ones to slide inside the room. They were pleased to see Pete resting comfortably in the bed. He had minimal things attached to him, mostly just one IV line going in and another line coming out. A glass of water sat in front of him on the tray table while a beautiful blonde nurse stood at his bedside. She fluffed his pillows then offered, "Can I get you some more ice water?"

Malloy looked up at the entrance of his friends. "Yes, please."

The nurse continued to mess with her patient by carefully tucking in his sheet and blanket.

"How are you feeling, Partner?"

"Better." Even in his exhausted state, Pete glanced over at his nurse and a small grin spread across his face.

Both Mac and Jim noticed the look. "I can see that. The doctor says you could be out of here by tomorrow."

Finally content with his bed arrangement, the nurse scooped up his almost empty water glass and hustled out the door.

Still struggling to swallow, Pete spoke in a gravelly voice, "That sounds good."

Mac came up to the end of the bed. "It's good to see you, Pete. You had us worried there for a minute."

"I was a bit worried myself."

After the nurse shuffled by the other officers in the hallway, they decided to sneak inside the room. Ed, Jerry, and Bob stepped in the back of Pete's room. Wells spoke up, "Hey Pete, we just wanted to check on how you were doing?"

"I'm ... OK." Pete struggled to sit up a bit more because he wanted to look like less of an invalid and also to convey a serious message to his brother officers. He battled with his emotions to say, "Guys, thanks ... for not giving up ... on finding me."

Jerry responded first and the others chimed in, "You bet, Pete. We don't give up on one of our own."

Jim stepped up along his partner's bedside. His face showed the lines of worry across his brow. "Obviously, I can't let you out of my sight." He tried to make a joke, but Pete got the true message.

Just then the feisty blonde nurse came back in carrying Pete's glass filled with water. "Excuse me gentlemen, I hate to cut this visit short, but Officer Malloy needs his rest. In a little while he's scheduled for a sponge bath and shave."

"Say what?!" Pete's expression of shock and horror spoke wonders to the other men in the room. It even elicited a cough from the patient.

"Trust me, Officer Malloy, you will feel so much better afterwards. Here, drink this." She offered him the cup of cool water.

Ed interjected, "Pete, you DO smell a bit foul."

Pete pushed the glass to the side as he retorted, "Let's see if you would smell like a rose ... after two days in a hot box."

Mac decided to take charge. "OK, Pete needs to rest. Time to clear out." He waved the guys toward the door. "I'll stop by later to get your statement for the report."

Jerry and Bob blurted, "Rest up, Pete" as they walked out.

Ed joked, "Happy bathing!"

Mac then quickly ushered out Wells before Pete could react. Jim paused beside Pete's bed before departing. Pete reached out and grabbed his partner's forearm and gave it a squeeze. "Thanks again, Jim! Now go give that wife of yours a kiss for me and Jimmy a hug."

"You bet!"

Three days later, Pete knocked at Reed's front door while holding a six-pack of Rainier. Jean opened the door with a huge smile on her face. "Oh Pete, it so good to see you!" She gave him a hug and a peck on the cheek. "Come in."

"Here is a little contribution for tonight," as he handed her the beer to share.

"Thank you, Pete. I'll put them on ice. Go make yourself comfortable. Jim and Al are out back by the grill." Malloy wandered to the patio door expecting to see Jim watching over the steaks. He stepped out and was met with a cheer from a half dozen off-duty officers. "Surprise!"

"Hey, what are you all doing here?" Not only was Al Porter there, but also Mac, Jerry Woods, Bob Brinkman, and even Ed Wells. They all raised a salute to Pete.

Jim spoke up, "We decided not only to celebrate Al's acceptance as a Reserve Officer, but your return to duty."

"Get the man a drink!" Mac commanded.

Just a moment later, Jean came out with a couple cold ones in hand. "Does anyone need another beer?"

"Heaven sent. Thanks Mrs. Reed." Jerry passed the opened bottle to Pete and another full bottle to Porter.

Jim closed up the grill and turned to the gathered officers. "I would like to make a toast. To my partner, my friend, Pete Malloy, I'm glad to have you back! And congratulations to Al Porter, a welcome addition to the Los Angeles Police Reserves!" All the men lifted their bottles and clinked them together before taking a swig of the golden ale.

Pete looked over to the beaming Al. He was happy for him, but also appreciated some of the attention being on someone else.

After another gulp of beer, Pete raised his bottle one last time. "And to my friends, thanks for backing me up one more time!"

One side note: Kevin Mitchell pleaded not guilty by reason of insanity. He was undergoing a mental evaluation prior to a trial being set. All the factors were pointing to a diagnosis of Schizophrenia for the young man.

Thank you again to all who left a review. I really do appreciate hearing from you. Aussielover


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